Restless Night
by Carbon65
Summary: His mind races, and he cannot fall asleep. The elation is just a mask for dread.
1. Original Song: Worries

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Its probably even a good thing.

At first, he is on cloud nine. It is almost surreal; the thing New Directions has worked so hard to achieve has finally happened. They have won their sectionals. The original song ploy worked, and although he still finds Rachel quite trying t times, he has to admit she was amazing.

Then, the doubts start to creep in. At home, he lays in bed in his lightsaber pajamas, unable to sleep. He tries shifting positions, knowing he will only have to shift again in a few hours. He counts sheep. He's not actually sure what that is a recommended technique for falling asleep.

He counts girls.

One. Rachel Berry.

Boss Berry, he used to call her when they were in eighth grade together. For all her faults, Rachel has a voice, and a presence. He just wishes she would stop assuming that everyone else is there to sing backup.

Two. Tina Cohen-Chang.

Her name has a melody of its own. He doesn't think he will ever be able to get the blue-haired shy girl out of his head. She is, and will always be his first love. She holds a piece of his heart.

Three. Quinn Fabray.

Ice Princess. She doesn't seem to have any real substance to her, now that she's back on top. He sighs, and moves on.

Four. Mercedes Jones.

Diva. He thinks that she is more talented that Rachel, in his opinion, and more fun to sing with. He loves her the way he loves his little sister, Ceccy.

Five. Santana Lopez.

He's not sure how to view Santana. There has always been a part of him that was scared of the latina and her biting tongue. But, seeing her sing that song with Miss Holiday? He's starting to believe that the bitterness is just a front she's build up to protect herself, the way he's taken on a gansta personality to protect himself. If you hide behind a shield, the slings, arrows and slushies don't hurt so badly.

Six. Brittany S. Pierce.

Sweet Brittany, who has shown him whole new worlds which have nothing to do with her favorite movie, Aladdin. Wise Brittany, who sees what no one else does, and isn't afraid to ask about it. Funny Brittany, who locks the cat out of the room when ever Artie comes over, and who uses crayons to write with because pencils are too hard to break and share.

But, he knows that look on Brittany's face when she is with Santana. He recognizes that he will only every be a blue star, may a silver, in her book, while Santana will always be gold. It hurts a little, but he has come to accept the reality. The relationship was not meant to last forever. After all, the leggy blond has only recently decided that he and Wally are not cousins.

Seven. Lauren Zizes.

Lauren truly intimidates him. She is the athlete and the badass he sometimes wishes he could be.

He has not fallen asleep yet, so he starts reciting Beatles songs in order of release date. Sporcle may or may not be bookmarked on his computer.

His rest is uneasy. He makes frequent trips between his bedroom and his bathroom. He cannot decide if the feeling in the pit of his stomach is dread or simply too much to eat. He suspect he knows the answer.

He has never been away from home without someone there: his parents, a camp counselor, a nurse or physical therapist. He can do everything himself, he has been taking care of himself exclusively for the past three years. But, he's not sure he can do it away from home.

Part of him imagines that the trip will be impossible. No one, least of all him, wants to ride a school bus eight hours to New York City. No parent will have the extra money to spend on hotel rooms in the big apple during a national singing competition. And, despite anything Mr. Schue might say, bake sales are pretty sketchy. Just look at what Puck did last time they tried to raise money. The pot cupcakes were damn tasty, but they had him spinning in circles for days.

He sighes, and hauls himself back into bed. Long ago, he resigned himself to the future coming in whatever form it took. It was a philosophy that didn't prevent worry, but certainly helped alleviate it somewhat.

He starts reciting old Will Smith songs, and feels his eyelids drooping.

For the next few weeks, Artie finds himself wishing Nationals are in Miami, and not just because Rachel has put together a list of must-see Broadway plays for them to all review.


	2. Haitus 1 Home sick

He tosses and turns, unable to sleep. He pulls the covers over him, and throws them off as the fever and chills take him. Every few hours, he goes and pees, because of the sudden, intense, pressure. His headaches, and nothing will dull it.

Lying on his back, he floats in between sleep and wakefulness. His spine aches just above his injury line. He reaches back, and feels the thin scar. His shoulders and elbows ache, with a dull, but persistent sort of pain.

Pain and illness make him bitter. He snaps at his youngest sister, Cece, when she comes in with his cell phone. The cellphone he accidently left at Mercedes' house last night. He hopes Cedes hasn't stayed around, but she follows the child in, anyway.

"Feel better, Wheels," she advises him.

He tries to be civil, he really does. But, his words are biting and harsh. He is not his normal, cheerful self. He tries to keep the curses to a minimum, although it isn't as though his sister, Bex, has not discovered her own potty mouth recently.

Mercedes leaves angry, and hurt, and he goes back to restless waiting. He waits for the fever to break, he waits for sleep to descend, but it doesn't come. There is nothing that can distract him from his worry.

Oh, God, what if he alienated one of his only friends? What if Mercedes is pissed?

His stomach begins to churn, and he rolls himself onto his stomach.

His words echo in his ears. Mercedes will hate him. Of course she will. How could she not?

And, Mercedes will tell Tina, Brittany, Kurt… and probably the rest of New Directions. God, the entire Glee club will hate him.

He rolls to his side.

And, worse, what if this happens when New Directions goes to Nationals?

He has gone through a box of catheders this afternoon. Even through he has been taught to pack himself twice as many supplies as he expects to need for the time, twice what he would need for three days of this would require their own suitcase.

But, what if he doesn't pack enough, and he has to ask someone to get him another prescription? None of the guys are discrete enough to make this kind of purchase. How do you ask a guy who used to throw up in a dumpster or your ex to buy you catheters, or worse yet, KY Jelly when you run out? How do you ask your teacher, a throw-back to the 80's? How do you do it yourself?

He shifts, wishing the pain and fears away. They refuse to go.

He spends the next hour flopping like a fish, until his dad comes home with antibiotics and a codeine-laced painkiller.

And, although he tosses and turns a bit after he has taken them, there is no way he can refuse to succumb to the drugs.


	3. Haitus 2: Avenging Angels

He tossed and turned, feverish. His problem was not falling asleep, but staying lucid while he was awake. His skin was a porcelain white matched only by Kurt at his most theatrical, although the greenish tint was far from attractive and his cheeks a shade of red that a clown would envy.

Deep in the throws of the infection, his body felt disproportionate. How could he be so wide on top, and so narrow in the middle? At the same time, why was someone trying to drive him through with an arrow? He wondered if he pulled back the covers, if he might have transformed into Saint Sebastian, beautiful naked body and bloody arrows through his side. Somehow, though, his arms were too heavy to lift.

The suspicion of transformation was only encouraged when three blurry angels wondered in. Although one wore black lace, and he was pretty sure the other had killed a multi-colored zebra to dress herself, the third was properly dressed in cream and blue. Their voices pushed at him, reassuring him that he was, in fact, Sebastian, suffering torture.

_What have you done?_ One of the angels asks the warrior. Her voice is soft and musical. A cloud of blue and black brush across his face, and he feels cool lips on his forehead.

_Damn girl!_ This angel's voice is powerful, like a herald. _I can't believe you just did that. What about abs?_

Even though he had been told as a little boy that when angels laughed, it sounded like silver bells. These angels' giggles were distinctly human.

_Quinn, Cedes, he's burning up!_ The first angel's voice sounded like a purr, almost. She transformed from a celestial to a black feline.

An icy hand, from a princess in a ball gown made of spun snow lightly brushed his burning brow, as the brave prince sweated in competition with a dragon. Yet, the cold touch brought with it a blast of icy air. The covers that had been throw off shortly before were suddenly not enough to fight the artic chill brought on by the touch of the three witches.

_Cece, is your mom home? _

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. _The witches began to speak a spell, and he curled away as best he could. A fourth witch joined them, reciting her own words.

_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you…_

He was a brave explorer, trying to escape the witches, but an ice flow had fallen on his legs and he couldn't move away. An icicle had pierced his side, and blood and water were flowing off of him.

_Bex, he's bleeding. _

Strong hands tried to lift him into a sitting position. But, the world spun as he sat up. Quinn, Mercedes, Tina, and his younger sister, Bex, were gathered around. He smiled, and darkness fell.


	4. Haitus 3: Always Awake

He is exhausted, but his sleep is interrupted. He knows from experience it is impossible to get sleep in the hospital. Too many things are checked too often. Even though he can't feel it, there this the ET light on his toe, and the one he can feel on his finger, keeping track of his pulse and oxygen levels. There are two IV lines into either elbow, one pumping antibiotics and fluids, the other so the nurses can come take out blood every few hours to check for sepsis. There are also the regular checks of his urine.

His father snores lightly from the recliner in his room. The snoring is comforting; it reminds him of just after the accident. He was never left alone in the dark, noise, Hospital. No matter how badly his father's back hurt or how many dark circles developed under his eyes, his father was there. The sound does not help his inability to sleep. The beeping for the machines, the snoring, the drip -drop of the IV line keep him awake.

His tired mind races. He might be on the mend, but he is afraid. Everyone says lightening doesn't strike twice. It's a lie. Lightening has a memory and it strikes over and over again. How else does a kid in a wheelchair end up getting a patriotic wedgie or locked in a port-a-potty?

The IVs make him feel like a muppet, except the strings detract instead of enhancing his movement. He hates having IVs, hates the cold weight in his hands. They make him feel trapped. His legs don't work, and now, his arms are too weak. They're heavy, and cold and sore. He fishes for the red call button and presses it.

The nurse comes and checks his temperature, his blood, his cath bag. She frowns, and sets down the heated blanket she was going to give him. He knows his temperature is rising, the chills have hit him badly. He fears the delirium, and the darkness of his mind.

He wants to sleep. His body is calling to him to let the medicine he knows the nurse slipped into his IV bag do its work. He is helpless against the vast powers of just about any type of sleep aid. Even Benedryl will put him under for close to a day. So, even though he is still scared of so many things, he stops fighting against sleep. He just hopes he can keep fighting for the other things.


	5. Haitus 4: Almost Back

_A/N: I've been trying to resist… but I have to add a dedication. This is for GLEEful Heart._

He lies awake, listening to the dark, silent house. This seems to be becoming a habit for him. He knows he should be able to sleep. He is finally recovered from the infection, with no apparent permanent damage. But, he and his father both know, even if they don't acknowledge it, that the infection might have affected his kidney function, even if they haven't said anything. And, though he refuses to admit it, he knows that kidney problems lead to dialysis… and more hospital time.

His fears keep him awake. He has been out of school for eight days, almost two weeks. Mr. Schue might be understanding, but Mr. Davey, the chemistry professor, don't seem to have a heart. And, his English teacher has a crazy policy about late papers. He prays that Ms. Salling hasn't assigned a new paper while he has been away. He knows he was supposed to be reading _The Scarlet Letter_ during his convalescence, but even insomnia doesn't inspire him to read Hawthorne.

He is more nervous about the changing social scene. A lot can happen in two weeks. He knows his girlfriend, has been through more boys than he went through nurses in two weeks. (And that is saying a lot considering they seemed to change every ten minutes) At least, he hopes Brittany is still his girlfriend, even though she never once made an appearance at the hospital. Part of him wonders what ridiculous explination she will offer. Probably something along the lines of, "I thought you went to Timbuktu."

Puck, Finn and Mr. Schue came to see him once each, staying only a short time. They were clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Kurt, who would have visited more in the old days, was notably absent. Artie knows it's a long trip from Westerville to Lima, and Mercedes swears Dalton is ten times harder than McKinley, but he still misses his only fellow male muppet baby.

Rachel made one of her flamboyant and slightly inappropriate visits, where she presented him with a ridiculous baby blue teddy bear and a burned copy of her favorite get well numbers. After his father tracked down a CD player, he did try listening to the playlist once… before deciding that Andrew Lloyd Weber was NOT his first choice in healing music. He prefers a little Billy Idol, a little Men with Hats, and the occasional Sinatra song thrown in for good measure.

Only Tina and Mercedes were constant visitors. Tina was slightly uncomfortable, although whether that was because he was half naked with a bag draining his pee, or because of her general dislike of hospitals was hard to say. Mercedes was confidently oblivious to the medical drama going on around her. But, the two girls are not necessarily reliable sources of information about the on-goings at McKinley. They might know everything about the biology hamsters or the latest Rachel Berry drama, but actual news? No so much.

He sighs, and thinks about going to the bathroom. Its approaching 2 am, and his doctors have lectured him about the necessity to re-establish his routine. The problem is that his routine does not involve him going every two hours. But, after eight days in the hospital, his … capacity has shrunk. But, after all the lectures he has gotten about hygiene, he's a little hesitant. But, he has to do what he has to do. So, he hauls himself off to his bathroom, which his mother has stocked with a million bottles of purel.


	6. Sexy 1: Parents

His stomach churns, and he rolls over onto his side. A permission slip to travel out of state with school sits unsigned next to his bed. He has gotten over his UTI, and managed to get back into school, but it had shaken him. His father, already over-protective after nearly loosing his first born and only son a few times, was even more paranoid after the recent infection. The doctors have suggested a new medication, a constant antibiotic treatment to prevent further infections. Artie is unsure if he can stand to add yet another medication to his already burgeoning medicine cabinet.

Even more so, he's not sure if he can do it without his mother's approval. She has made her opinion more than clear. He is nearly seventeen, old enough to start making his own medical decisions, or so she says. And, his mother has been vocally against the new medication all a long. But, since his parents have come this far with him, he is unsure if he can move forward without him.

Winning the brain bowl with Mike, Tina and Brittany, has introduced a new level of stress in his life. This is his first trip away from home on his own. His father has called it a test run for Nationals in New York. Tina's mother has business in Windsor, and has agreed to drive the four competitors. They will leave early Friday afternoon, and return Saturday evening. The trip includes two three-hour drives, an unfamiliar bathroom, a cheap motel room with a bad bed, and the high probability of his body during embarrassing things.

Just the travel alone makes him nervous. Even though in school he seems to sit for hours in his wheelchair, it's just not the case. He shifts in his chair regularly at school, trying to prevent pressure sores. They are yet another sore point with his parents. After school, he spends at least an hour stretching on the days he's not in physical therapy. If he doesn't, he pays for it later. He may not be able to feel the tightness in his legs, but without stretching, he fears embarrassing and disruptive spasming.

The meet in Detroit will be held at some high school, just like the Ohio competition. While McKinley hosted the local competition, he is nervous about the new facility. With his spectacular luck, the school in Detroit will not be accessible. Despite the ADA, few places are as accessible as they need to be. All sorts of things are cited to avoid making the changes he needs to function. He knows he should put it out of his mind, that it's out of his control, but it still frightens him a little.

The prospect of the hotel room he will share with Mike Chang also scares him. They had initially proposed renting a single room with two double beds. Figgins did not approve. His hands were tied, and he could not have boys and girls sharing a room. Besides, it was not Christian. He would, of course, pray for their souls, but they had to get separate hotel rooms. Otherwise, they might have depraved acne filled mouth-breathing sex and produce spawn just like that trollop, Quinn Fabray. If they thought it was hard to find funds for their competition, they should try competing in Swahili. That's hard.

Ridiculous high school politics aside, Mike Chang is the only member of the group who has _not _seen him without pants at least once. Mike is the only one who has not, at least, casually and accidently encountered a catheter. And, as much as Brittany is convinced its part of his equipment from the Mothership, he doubts Mike will recognize the device for anything less than what it is: something he shoves into his junk several times a day. And, catheters are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what he may or may not be dealing with on this trip.

The serious worries could keep him up all night, but he changes position, and then focuses on the concern, which has become a totem for all the others. What if he isn't gasta enough to handle the motor city?


	7. Sexy 2: Snoring

_A/N: I had intended this chapter to be a little humorous… I don't think it quite turned out that way._

He is exhausted, elated, excited. He was also ready to kill Mike Chang. It would have been nice if _someone_ could have mentioned Mike's particular unfortunate habit. He suspects Brittany and Mike have had slumber parties in the past. And, he has few doubts about Tina and Mike. Even Ms. "Call me Liz" Cohen has probably has seen Mike Chang sleeping on her couch once or twice. So, why didn't one of them have the common curtsey to warn him that Mike Chang snores? Although, snores might be putting it mildly; his father teaching Bex to mow the lawn at nine o'clock on the Saturday morning after the Rachel-Berry-House-Party-Train-Wreck-Extravaganza was quieter and more condusive to sleep than Mike Chang's snoring.

He considered his options.

Despite all the school, and Liz Cohen's best efforts, the teenagers had someone ended up with rooms across the hall from each other. While Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury might be naïve to things like taping doors, Tina's mother is far wiser. Having spent the entire drive up to Detroit describing the horrors of the teen pregnancies she saw growing up in New York in the sixties, the horrors of drug use she saw in the seventies, and the horrors of STDs she saw in the eighties and early nineties, and the horrors of spousal and child abuse she saw as a prosecutor. By the time they arrived in the Motor City, all the occupants of the car where a bit wary of the opposite sex.

Mike Chang's snoring almost makes him want to risk gonorrhea.

Instead, he debates going to the small in-house gym. After years of personal torture, where the therapists pushed him hard and the season playing football for Coach Beiste, he finds exercise helps clear his mind. It almost makes him want to build muscles. Of course, the relation embued by physical activity isn't the only attractive thing. He would _kill_ for abs like Mike's. Mike snores with shirt off.

He transfers out of bed, and slowly fishes around the room, trying to find his gym bag. He fishes in red McKinley Football bag, only to discover that his mother packed his swim suit, but not the nylon pants he likes to wear for exercise. He fishes again, and pulls out a pair of Bex's basketball shorts. Much as he hates to admit it, his skinny body fits perfectly into clothes belonging to his thirteen-year-old sister. He decides to go anyway.

It's approaching two in the morning, and he is praying that the gym is open when he reaches it. His electronic key card unlocks the door with the heady electronic humming of a key card. But, the door opens out, towards him, and the hallway is narrow. There is no way for him to open the door, hold it open, and get himself through.

He is frustrated, perpetually frustrated. Anyone else could use his or her key card to get into the twenty-four hour gym at any time of the day or night. But, he is stymied by some stupid person's placement of hinges. He debates going out for a run, or his equivalent thereof, but he refuses to break the rules by leaving the hotel.

Instead, he stops by the front desk before returning to his room. The bored clerk barely looks up from her magazine, before handing over a small the small plastic package. Before he climbs back into bed, he uses the ball point pen to write small, hard, angry letters in the review card. It soothes his anger, some.

Then, he rolls the little orange ear plugs into cones and sticks them in his ear. They dull Mike's snoring enough that the only thing keeping him awake is his anger.


	8. Born This Way: Tshirt

Cripple

He debates putting the ugly slur on his shirt for the New Direction's Gaga number. The truth is, hewas _not_ born this way. He was _reborn_ this way. His mother would never have told him, but he knows. He's only enough now, and he's read through his medical records. There are not enough activities for a curious mind in a hospital, and after pre-calculus and Nathanial Hawthorne wore thin, he had slipped the copy of his medical record off the board at the end of his bed.

He died in the ambulance, the night of the accident.

The word in his medical file was miracle. It was a miracle they got his heart re-started after he went into shock. Part of him wishes they had let them die, and hadn't forced him through the painful re-birth process. He doesn't want to be dead now, exactly, but maybe he shouldn't have come back to life.

Nerd.

He flirts briefly with the idea as he lays in his bed. But, he wonders if he was born a nerd, or if he had the culture thrust upon him. He decides that parents are partially a gateway to nerd-dome. After all, they were the people who bought him architectural blocks and science kits rather than action figures.

Part of the reason he liked the blocks is because he could feel them, and they were brightly colored. Until he got glasses, action figures were hard gray-green blurs. He learned early that if he looked sideways at things, he could focus better. When he got glasses, the whole world changed.

Four Eyes.

The words spring into his head, and he knows they will be the perfect t-shirt message. His racing mind calms a little, and lets him sleep for the few hours he has.


	9. Rumours: Never going back again

_A/N: Okay… this is the time I admit things to everyone. If you are not already aware, I'm female… quite happily female. And so, while I can wax poetic about the female body and relationships from that view, this chapter has been quite a challenge from two fronts…_

Fleetwood Mac's _Never Going Back Again_ played softly through his iHome, but he doesn't hear it.

"God, Brittany, why are you so stupid?"

"You were the only person who never called me that!"

The desperate, painful exchange echoes in his ears. His stomach tries to churn, but there is a ball of steel chain pulled tightly into a knot that cannot be unraveled. He isn't sure he will ever be able to sit up against that weight, let alone eat.

He knows he has done an unforgivable thing, and that she will never love him again. She will never love him. She will never love him. She never loved him?

God, she was his first. It wasn't just his body, and that despite his stupid lie to Tina, he had not been sure he would have full use of his penis. He had been so young when the injury had happened, and the cold medical terms, like _complete injury_, _anorgansimic_, _asexual_, had frightened and confused him. The discussions he had with his doctors, the neurologist, psychologist, urologist, Mr. Chang, his physical therapist, his family doctor, and his parents, had never been easy. There were more words, like _assisted fertility_, _sperm donor_, _Viagra_, and _vacuum pump_ had come up.

But, with Brittany, he had proven to himself that he _could_ do IT. And, it felt so good, pleasing her and pleasing himself. The soft curve of her body with his, the softness of her lips on his, the confusing mixture of sweet innocence, childlike wonder, and profound sexual wisdom made him feel like one of the most attractive, luckiest men alive.

His anger at her feelings for Santana are not anger at Santana, or at Brittany, but at himself. His doubts, which once flickered like little matches in the back of his mind, have burned down the house.

Now he's alone. And, although he doesn't want to accept it, he can never go back again.


	10. Prom 1: Less than Lovely

_A/N: First, I apologize for the LOOONG delay. I have been suffering from a combination of writer's block and responsibility-a-phobia.. I also would like to note that I __**have**__ been thinking about the series. And, while I was rather disappointed with the last three episodes of Glee this season, I plan to write 3 – 4 more installments of this series, to correspond to the second half of Prom, Funeral, and one or two for the season finale. I will get those out in a timely manner. In fact… I'm working ahead right now!_

He stared at the ceiling, wondering how he could have been so stupid. But, it had hurt, listening to Brittany bragging about how she didn't have a date. _He_ should have been her date. She could have been dancing with _him_.

Although, now that he thinks about it, he's still pretty shy about dancing. Sure, he can pop a wheelie and do ridiculous hand an arm motions along with everyone else. He even does his own version of the awkward geek-girl dance, a variant on the white boy shuffle. Slow dancing presents a certain problem, but Brittany could sit on his lap, her arms around his neck, her long legs dangling across his lap, her heels dangling off his toes.

Maybe that's why he agreed to Puck's stupid idea. It was clearly poor judgment, he realizes as he re-hashes the week under the glow and the dark stars stuck to his ceiling.

Sam Evans had been over a few weeks earlier to work on a project. Bex tested her baby sitting skills on Stevie and Stacy (after a small bribe from her brother). Something had come over Sam when he had seen the package of un-opened stars sitting on Artie's desk. He had dragged a kitchen chair into the bedroom, and started arranging them on the ceiling in seemingly random patterns. It is only now that Artie realizes Sam made constellations. He picks out the big dipper right away, and something that looks vaguely _W_ shaped.

Having Sam over, even if it had cost him a week of dish washing, had been a good idea. Listening to Puck's plans… both plans… had been stupid. _Isn't She Lovely_ was a song Puck should have sung to Quinn or Beth, not something he should have been singing to Brittany, he realizes. The song wasn't romantic for a girl he wanted to date, it was another way to tell her she was a child. His stomach churns a little bit at the memory of his stupidity.

Recruiting the AV club to help him execute his plan to interrupt Ms. Child's sixth period Home-Ec class had been difficult. Someone had to spring Sam, Puck, Mike, and Finn from their classes to sing with him. They were reluctant to help with any more Glee projects, he was told, especially if they involved him or Rachel Berry. _Run, Joey, Run _ was just the tip of the ice burg in the things they had done for New Directions. Apparently, just earlier that day, Rachel press-ganged them into an acapella version of "Rolling in the Deep". More bribery, and they helped him with his stupid plan.

He wonders if he had sung something else… maybe something by Sinatra, like "I Get a Kick Out of You." He could have sung something so much more perfect, something that would have convinced her to come to the dance with him.

Her words refusing him crushed him, especially that sarcastic little "yeah" after he apologized. Artie's dreams had once again been crushed, and he was in pain. How could he not refuse to help Puck achieve his dreams?


	11. Prom 2: Dancing Queen

He rolled over, wired on adrenaline. He wasn't sure the reason exactly. It might have been Bex's discretion of his suit, performing _Friday_, spiking the punch, or Sue Sylvester's attempts at home dentistry. It was probably Coach Sylvester. Even though Dr. Howl's technique was excellent, and the good doctor was the purveyor of all sorts of wonderful Britney Spears fantasy inducing drugs, he had not enjoyed his trip to the dentist. The threat of the untrained Coach Sylvester pulling out his teeth had almost been too much.

Now, with his crazy red suit hung up, he tries to be prosaic. He hopes that someday, perhaps someday soon even, he will be able to laugh as much about the YouTube of him singing and rapping to Rebecca Black's Friday as Bex and Cece are doing now. When, on Thursday, he had announced what he, Puck and Sam would be singing, Bex had snorted, and Cece had informed him that the reason Rebecca Black's mother had let her record the song was to prove to her daughter that music was not a viable career.

He's not so sure he'll be able to laugh about watching Brittany dance with other people. It nearly broke his heart. Nor, is he completely sure that watching one's ex dance steal other people's dates qualifies as something a wise person laughs about later. Of course, the fact that she kept insisting on stealing the female dates, Mike Chang, Kurt and Blaine would have been something about which he would have commented to someone, if he hadn't been so depressed about it.

Coach Sylvester catching him spiking the punch had sort of destroyed his night, although he was thankful when Jesse and Finn had gotten into a fight and been kicked out. He's pretty sure it saved his back molar. Loosing a tooth over lemonade would have sucked. But, he couldn't have used alcohol. His prom night makes him remember another queen.

He first met Daria in a group therapy session, designed to help the residents come to terms with what had happened. She had tersely supplied her name, and that she was a complete C7 from a car accident. At eight, he hadn't understood the meaning of the secret code of rehab. The nurses kept telling him that he was a "complete T11", which he understood to mean that he wouldn't be able to do martial arts or play soccer, or walk, any more.

As he got to know her, he found Daria had Quinn's looks and Lauren Zice's badass personality. In his eight-year-old mind, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met, with the possible exception of his mom or Storm from the X men. She was also the resident closest in age to him. They became ... tentative friends. In retrospect, he was sure he drove the older girl crazy. He was constantly asking her to come watch cartoons with him.

Eventually, as he was leaving, Daria told him the details of her accident. She had been totally involved in her high school as the head of the Pep club and member of the track team. Daria was relatively popular, evidenced by the fact that she was crowned homecoming royalty. On the night of the homecoming dance, her date pre-gamed the event without her knowing, and took the wheel. They crashed before they even made it to the dance. A family in the other car was killed. Daria was left on a ventilator for the rest of her life, and her date walked away with barely a scratch on him.

Knowing what he did, there was no way he could have spiked the punch with anything alcoholic.


	12. Funeral: Fear

_A/N: I apologize for the delay on this. My muse has been otherwise occupied with a huge project for work. But, my boss has told me that its time for my fledgling code to fly (or fail), so I will have a little bit more time. I plan to get the first part of the last episode done this week._

He lay on his back, jiggling his wrist so that the whole bed vibrated. He hated being on his back, it reminded him of being in a hospital. But, he lay there, anyway, one hand across his abdomen just above the line of sensation, the other beside him.

He felt for Sue Sylvester. The woman kept a security detail around her emotions more elaborate than the guards on a Swiss Bank. Jacob Ben Israel had circulated a rumor around school that Sue was an automaton. It was a rumor that he had been willing to believe, right up until Jean's funeral. Watching Coach Sylvester break down and cry, there was no way anyone could doubt her humanity, or how much she loved her sister.

Part of him was angry about Jean Sylvester's death. It didn't seem fair: once your body was compromised in one way, it became more vulnerable to everything. The medical community had a word for that vulnerability, one that had become worse than a swear word in his family. Coach Sylvester's sister might have died from pneumonia, but it was acknowledged as a _complication_ of her Downs Syndrome. And, deep down, he knew he would probably die from the same complication of his injury.

He was terrified of pneumonia, more than anything. He had faced the disease before, and if he never had it again, it would not be too soon. The first time, he had been in rehab. Cece was just three, and had started preschool. Although the little girl was still a bit fuzzy on the concept of sharing her toys, she was quite proficient in sharing germs, and she picked up a series of ear infections. The bacteria, which caused ear infections in an otherwise healthy toddler, somehow turned into pneumonia for her recently paralyzed older brother. He had spent a week in the hospital, lying on his back with an antibiotic drip in his arm and a tube carrying oxygen in his nose. And, although his younger sisters did not know, he had been given last rights the third night of his hospital visit. His parents sat silent vigil by his bedside, ready to call for help if he should stop breathing in his sleep. The disease had extended his stay in rehab by a full two months.

The other time had been in eight grade, just before his fourteenth birthday. A head cold had become a chest cold. And, the cold took root in his lungs. It was possible they were scarred from the last time he had been sick, and somehow, that let the virus make him sicker. He fought the disease quietly, trying to avoid going to the hospital. But, when he finally started coughing up blood in social studies, the combined pressure of his teachers and his parents sent him to the doctor. His diagnosis of walking pneumonia seemed like a bit of a misnomer to him. He pleas to avoid hospital time were appeased, although he had become the proud owner of a nebulizer.

The next time he gets pneumonia, he is afraid it will be his last time getting anything. With this knowledge, he has left a file on his computer with directions for his funeral. Once a year, he updates it. He knows he will not be able to sleep much tonight, so he transfers into his chair, and wheels over to the computer. He opens the text document, and enters the date. Then, staring at the blinking curser, he tries to decide how to continue. Finally, filled with equal parts fear and sorrow over the losses which have happened, and the losses to come, he begins to write.


	13. New York 1: Flying Fears

_A/N: I have really tried to research this chapter. I have based parts on some of my own travel experiences, and some on the message boards online. I also used the Glee Video Diaries on Hulu for some of the more delightful parts. If you haven't seen them, they are really early on, and include the Chris Colfer Single Ladies Dance. So… that's my excuse for this taking so long. Not that I've been working 12 – 16 hour days, just that I've been doing research…_

_Okay, I know I said I wouldn't leave a LONG author's note, but it is approximately 3 am, and I', feeling long winded._

He _knows_ he needs sleep. The next day will be long without it; he will be at the airport well before sunrise. But, perhaps it is precisely that knowledge that kept him awake. He isn't sure if it was the fear of his alarms going off, or simple trepidation for the unknown.

His stomach practically percolates as he lies on his side. It is not the leaden ball of nerves that accompanied emotional turmoil, simply the bubbling of a stomach hopped up on adrenaline. He does have some reasons to be nervous, though, and not just about the competition or sleeping in the same city block as Mike Chang. The trip to New York will be his first time on an airplane.

He knows he's not the only one in New Directions who will be giving up his flying V card. He knows the likelihood of having problems with weather is low. He is thankful he probably won't have to spend a night in an airport somewhere. And, assuming the Glee club can get themselves and their baggage to the airport on time, everything should make it to New York City in the bay of the plane.

His worries are a little more personal.

When they check their bags and get boarding passes, he is afraid that he will also have to surrender his chair. His mother has insisted he has a right to keep it until he boards the plane; he's just not sure he'll manage to exercise the right. He doesn't want to cause more inconveniences for the group than he has to, or point out any more differences than are already apparent. So, when someone suggests he transfer to the uncomfortable, gawky airport chair with the silver aluminum frame and a plasticized seat, which can be wiped down with disinfectant between riders, he'll probably do it, just to avoid being a bother.

He knows the TSA inspects suitcases, and his is full of embarrassing things. Sure, there are the normal items, like Winny the Pooh boxers and a copy of Mad-Libs Puck has already half-filled out with crude suggestions. (Puck's crowning grammatical achievement for his junior year was the discovery that there were only a few parts of speech for which explicitives could not be applied, primarily prepositions and pronouns.) He has his folded cotton shirt, and his shiny matching polyester vest and pants packed in plastic bags to prevent anything from rumpling them. He is thankful Mr. Schue and Mercedes have selected a neutral black and white color scheme for this performance, rather than the rauchous pinks, purples and yellows he is sure will grace the stage. In his small first aid kit, he has stashed a pepto-bismal and a condom or two. Then, there are the really embarrassing things: dressing for pressure sores, catheders, plastic gloves, and KY Jelly. The worst offenders are not just in his suitcase, but in his carry-on bag as well. What if they have to search his bag, and they do it in front of everyone?

And, thinking about security, he's nervous about going through. He cannot stand long enough to pass through a metal detector. And, even if he could, he's got enough metal inside of him that he's pretty sure the things would alarm anyway. So, he's sure to be pulled out of line for a private screening. That, in and of itself, will probably be awkward. More over, he's certain that he will delay the group as the TSA officers swab his chair for bomb residues, pass the hand-held metal detector around his body, and probably pat him down. He will probably feel like a criminal

Like always, as the club passes through the terminal, there will be the uncomfortable situations that always happen when strangers see him: the pitying looks, the open stares, the averting of eyes. People behave as though they've never seen a person who uses a wheelchair before.

Then, there will be the accessibility issues. Somehow, part of him suspects few of the counters will be at his height. Over the noise of people, carts, musak and food preparation, he wonders if the workers will be patient enough to serve him, or it he'll have to rely on his friends for help. That, at least, won't be too embarrassing. Rachel and even Kurt have been known to ask Finn-the-Frankenteen to reach books off shelves for them.

At least the bathrooms at the airport will probably be accessible, which shouldn't be a problem. He's not so sure, though that he'll be able to get into a handicap stall. He has heard rumors that people with lots of kids and luggage like to use them. But, he's sure he'll get crap (no pun intended) for his strict bladder plan, which requires him to use the facilities every few hours. He almost wishes he had let him mother convince him to wear a bag during the flight, which might have solved the logistical nightmare of cathing, but would have had its own set of embarrassing consequences.

His biggest fear, though, is boarding. He knows he will be able to pre-board, along with families with small children and other individuals needing extra time or assistance. He'll hopefully be able to sit with the rest of the Glee Club, although part of him suspects even if his friends end up in the back of the plane, he'll be alone in the front. He'll miss out on Tina's cute turbulence dance, on Finn and Sam drooling on each other, on annoying every single person within eight aisles of New Directions on the plane, on hitting Mary Poppins, and on Kurt getting chewed out by a flight attendant for filming with him flip cam when electronics are supposed to be turned off.

But, most scary is the aisle chair. He has heard horror stories about the trying to balance of the narrow, straight-backed chair as it gets wheeled down the aisle of the plane. He has read on message boards that it has ruined other people's trips. He tries to brace himself for the suckage. He hopes it won't ruin his first plane trip.


	14. New York 2: Song

_A/N: Okay… I know I keep saying that I'll update regularly, and I apologize for the long delays. I have been … programing. I literally started this author's note with a %... Also, this has a totally unrealistic feeling. Somehow, watching this episode of Glee just inspired the feeling. So, a bit less angsty that usual. Also YourFairyGodFather's Intelligable Paranoia, which you should totally read if you haven't._

New Direction's performance at Nationals is about fifteen hours away, and they still don't have a second original song. Finn and Rachel's working date turned into an angsty ballad by Finn and Sam. He is glad: it almost makes following the cute couple around with Puck and an accordion worth it.

He is wired, and he doesn't know why. He tries everything he can think of to calm his nerves, but it doesn't quite work. The city is too noisy. There are Mike Chang's snores, of course, regular and deep like a base beat. Puck almost whistles as he sleeps, the high- pitched noise tuneless over Mike's beat. Then, there is the city: the roar of traffic, the honking of horns, and the song of New York. He hears a bright beat in his head. He knows he wouldn't be able to sleep until he gets _something_ down. Besides, he needs to use the bathroom.

It's 5 am and tomorrow is going to be a long day. He, Brittany, Quinn, Santana and Kurt sat around the piano in the lobby, picking out the song until they had a melody and lyrics. Somehow, it sounded exactly like being in New York with the glee club made him feel… included, hopeful, and energized. The coffee Kurt or Santana occasionally made trips to acquire hadn't hurt that energy, either.

He's also afraid, more than he's ever been of performing. Tomorrow, they will get up on a National stage and sing against the forty-nine best Glee Clubs in the country. More over, they will sing the songs they have written themselves, while everyone else sings familiar covers. And, there is a good likelihood he will be featured. What if he screws ups? What if they hate it? What if there is a dead silence and no applause?

Oh, God, he thinks he is going to throw up. He can't throw up, though, because Mike is currently in the bathroom, emptying his stomach. Apparently, the combination of energy drinks, New York Pizza, three bags of Haribro Gummies, ice cream, hot dogs, and then coke and pop rocks. Somehow, five and a half hours later, the combination somehow caused a rebellion.

Instead, he takes a sip of water and rolls over and goes back to sleep. Tomorrow will come as it will. They will win big, or go home losers. He hopes they win.


	15. Summer Hiatus: Epilogue

_A/N: This is the end the story has been building to for a while, and something I planned after it grew from a one-shot (which was my original intent). THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who commented or read, you fed my muse. I did enjoy writing this, but no word yet on how he is feeling about more work with this season of Glee._

It is pleasantly cool in his bedroom. The scent of his mother's prized lilacs blow through the open window opposite his bed; their scent is as delicate as a kiss. The ceiling fan overhead circulates air around his room. On one of the lower corners of his bulletin board, he has pinned a certificate, congratulating John Arthur Abrams of New Directions, William McKinley High School, Lima, Ohio, for his participation in the National Glee Club competition.

Slowly, he transfers into bed. He does not move slowly because he is tired, simply because he is purposeful. Somehow, the world around him is in balance. He has survived this semester. He knows he will face other challenges out there. There will always be idiots and rude people, he reminds himself with a sigh. He will get sick. He and his parents will fight about how best to handle is health care. There will be girls he will love, and who will break his heart. Maybe, there will someday be a girl he loves who does not break his heart. He is feeling optimistic.

He reaches over and turns off the overhead light, and sets his cellphone to wake him in four hours. The velvety blue sky outside his window becomes a dark haze as he slips off his glasses. Then, he closes his eyes, and rolls onto his side. Without anxiety or worry, for the first time in a long time, sleep comes to him gently.

When his mother walks by a while later, she pulls his door gently and smiles at her peacefully sleeping child.


End file.
